


Up From Down

by helens78



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-30
Updated: 2006-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-05 20:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starbuck can't tell up from down.  She just knows that with Cain, it doesn't seem to matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up From Down

One or the other of them's on top here, but who? Starbuck isn't sure, because _up_ is something far away now. Now she's not _up_ but _submerged_, so deep in Cain's embrace and the fury of Cain's mouth on hers that she wouldn't know up from down, left from right, Cylon from hum--

\--no. She'd know _that_.

Cain is just like any woman Starbuck's had, and that's a comfort. She moves the same way, growls the same way when the want hits her hard, has that same sweet-slick taste between her legs. There's the same awkwardness, getting positioned, and just like every time Starbuck's taken a woman to bed, it doesn't matter. Eventually one of them's on top, one of them's on the bottom, they're both licking and stroking and frakking like there's no tomorrow and _Gods_ Starbuck's been needing something like this, a take-no-prisoners frak that doesn't ask, doesn't hold back, that's all mouths and hands and hot, dripping pussy, Cain's scent and taste smeared on Starbuck's cheeks.

"Come," Cain snarls, two fingers curved just right inside her. "You can do it, _come_."

Starbuck does, but she gets her lips fastened around Cain's clit first, sucking hard. There's no need to be gentle here -- if Cain wanted it gentle she'd never have gone after Starbuck in the first place. Cain tenses up, flattens one hand against Starbuck's lower back. The heat from that touch makes Starbuck grind down (down? up? does it matter?), against Cain's hand, needing more than she's getting, and somehow Cain knows it.

Suddenly it's obvious who's up and who's down, because Starbuck's face-down in the bed, on knees and forearms, legs spread apart. Cain's got a hand on her lower back again, but now she's driving two -- three -- maybe even four fingers into her, _not_ too many, _not_ too much.

"Come," she says, again, this time not snarling, this time steady.

And Starbuck comes, gasping.

She doesn't even have time to recover before Cain's got her close again. "_Come_," Cain says, that same steady voice, and Starbuck comes again, muffling a sharp _oh, frak_ with the pillows.

"_Come_," Cain says, and this time Starbuck knows it for what it is -- an order. If that changes anything, it just makes her need it that much more; Starbuck isn't a good girl, doesn't follow orders every time, but Gods, frak, sometimes she _wants_ to be, and here, oh Gods, maybe here--

"_Come._"

And it's like it was when it first started -- Starbuck doesn't know up from down, left from right, herself from this screaming, thrashing woman in Cain's bed.

What seems like hours later, Cain lets her go, climbing up the bed to wrap herself around Starbuck. Starbuck whimpers just a little and hopes Cain didn't hear. Starbuck doesn't whimper.

"You're going to do just fine here," Cain murmurs.

_-end-_


End file.
